


Angrily Parents Bird

by OhItsActuallyMicheal



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Idk man its been sitting in my notes for ages, Incomplete, Nine is the best Warrior Minion, Small Birds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 18:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20710538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhItsActuallyMicheal/pseuds/OhItsActuallyMicheal
Summary: This is 100% not finished but I'm posting it anyways.WX-78 may not like the humans in the camp, but the bird's okay.





	Angrily Parents Bird

“There’s really nobody else at camp right now?” Willow groaned at the robot, who seemed to be the only “person” in the entire home base.

“AFFIRMATIVE, THE LESSER BEINGS HAVE GONE TO THE CAVES AND I AM HERE BECAUSE I’M SUPERIOR.”

“Yeah sure, I’d think they left you behind because no one likes having you around.” They grunted, as much as a robot could grunt, and turned back to whatever they were doing before she showed up, she didn’t really care what it was. She shifted her attention to the egg in her bag, it was already in the process of hatching and she was itching to go burn something down, but it could very well destroy the potential smallbird. She started the fire pit back up and set the rocking egg down by it, and pointed an angry finger at WX-78.

“Watch this egg, make sure it doesn’t overheat.” They groaned and looked back towards her again, setting down a drawing of themselves killing the entire group, damn homicidal tendencies.

“WHY WOULD I DO THAT.”

“Because I’ll burn down your hut and hog all of the umbrellas until your sorry butt is so rusted that you won’t even be able to talk. Watch the egg, I’ll be back from burning the tree farm in like an hour.” 

“I AM NOT THREATENED.”

“YOU SHOULD BE!” She was already walking away, her lighter already equipped. Willow’s threats were not to be taken lightly, she had complained about the horrid stench from some unwashed survivors, mostly Wilson and Woodie, and had dumped two buckets worth of flowered water on them in their sleep. At least the scent had gone away.

They regarded the blue egg sceptically, it would be tedious keeping it at the right temperature throughout the hour, but not impossible. They groaned and moved closer to the fire pit, adding a tuft of grass to the low flame, and sat there. Occasionally moving the egg back in forth in front of the heat, it would alert him with loud chattering or profusely sweating.

“HMPH, FLESHLING CHILDREN, ALWAYS COMPLAINING. IF THE HUMAN WILLOW WERE’NT INTIMIDATING FOR A LESSER YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN COOKED.” They poked the side of the egg mockingly, chuckling roughly as it fell onto it’s side. Their robot laughter was cut off by a distinct cracking noise, and the egg was shaking violently, making WX-78 start to panic at the thought of rusting because of the death of a stupid bird.

They swiped the egg off the ground and spun it their hand, searching for any imperfections, and lo and behold, a large crack had formed on the side of the blue spotted egg. Before any action could be taken, the shell fell in half, leaving a fluffy black ball in their palm, and a very surprised look on their metal face. The ball of feathers shifted and stretched open, revealing a smallbird smaller than WX’s hand, who focused on their face and chirped happily.

How long had Willow been gone? They weren’t sure how long they could “babysit” a fleshling for.

“YOU WERE MUCH LESS REPULSIVE IN YOUR DEVELOPMENTAL FORM.” But of course, the smallbird only chirped in response and attempted to nuzzle their thumb, which they would not tolerate. They set the hatchling on the ground by the fire and went to continue their very important drawing, which they wanted to show everyone to explain in detail their homicidal rage. WX-78 thought the bird would stay by the fire that it was oh so fond of, but ended up almost crushing it by sitting down.

“RETURN TO THE FIRE FLESHING.” It chirped at them once more and hopped into their lap, curling into a unbelievably small ball. WX scoffed at pushed the baby bird back to the ground, and it responded not with protest, but snuggling up to their side. They quickly resorted to ignoring the hatchling and continued their drawing, it was only made with charcoal but it was coming along. They made the blood out of berry juice and were quite proud of their ingenuity.

The bird occasionally moved around to find better sleeping conditions, from the ground to the robots head, not that they noticed at first.

“Hey WX-78! Where’s my egg?!” Ah, the human Willow had returned, finally. They decided to ignore the colossal amount of ashes on her faces, almost obstructing her eyes.

“THE EGG HAS EXPELLED IT’S CONTENTS IN THE FORM OF A INFANT. IT IS BY ME.” She walked over to see what they meant and saw the little smallbird bundle being worn as a living hat, and started laughing like mad. “WHAT IS THIS RESPONSE? RETRIEVE YOUR EGG CONTENTS FLESHLING” She was gasping for breath and pointed to their head.

“I-I can’t, the bird imprinted on you. It thinks your it’s mother or something, it wouldn’t let me touch it.” She chuckled loudly and walked off, leaving a fuming WX and their baby bird in somewhat peace. The automaton removed the smallbird from their head and brought it close to their face.

“I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER FLESHLING, FLESHLING.” If the bird understood them, it didn’t betray the look of happiness on it’s little face. It pecked them in the optical, of course it didn’t hurt much but it was irritating. They huffed angrily and set the bird back on the ground and went to collect food for themselves, they didn’t trust the fleshies to touch their food before they did. So they ended up walking through the deciduous collecting berries with tiny annoyance hopping after them.

They did not appreciate when the other fleshlings returned and started calling the smallbird Nine.

“WHY ARE YOU REFERRING TO THE FLESHLING ANNOYANCE AS NINE SCIENCE HUMAN” Wilson cocked an eyebrow and answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the Constant.

“You know, like the number nine? Since your name is WX-78, we thought it would be funny if your “baby” was called WX-79. Nine is just a nickname.” He chuckled before leaving the robot fuming, they were not happy about having that pest called it’s “child”, robots do not have children, they have minions, such as Hal but he doesn’t do much except lie.

There’s an idea, making the bird their minion. They’ve seen the adult versions and the ruthlessness of the species, having one under their command could prove beneficial to overthrowing the fleshing annoyances. Yes, that seemed very logical to them, and went to their tent were the smallbird had decided to reside. As WX-78 had found out via Wilson, the smallbird was a female of the species, and statically more hostile and defensive of their young, very important information.

“FLESHLING NINE, YOU ARE TO BE MY MINION AND OBEY MY COMMANDS.” Nine chirped in what WX was going to take as compliance, and rubbed their hands together menacingly. “EXCELLENT.”

Nine ended up needing lot’s more food than anticipated, but WX was not above stealing from the fleshling farms, so long as they didn’t have to eat it. Speaking of the fleshlings, some of them regarded Nine as more of a pet than a warrior minion in training, and WX got very defensive of her honour.

“SHE DOES NOT WANT HEAD SCRATCHES SPIDERCHILD” They shouted indignantly, pointing accusingly at Webber, who was currently petting Nine on the back of the head, while she purred adorably.

“Are you sure? She seems pretty happy to me!” He brought the smallbird to his face and rubbed her against his cheek. “You’re just the cutest little pet!”

“SHE IS A WARRIOR MINION. NOT A PET.” They made a move to collect Nine from the boy’s hands, but Webber moved out of their reach and rephrased themselves, still rubbing her against his face.

“Who’s the cutest little warrior minion!? Nine is!” WX knew they were being messed with, or liked to think they did, so they quickly snatched up their minion and took their leave. Nine chirped in protest, and quieted down when WX begrudgingly rubbed a thumb up and down her back. Things went this way almost everyday, Wx feeding Nine a few seeds and berries, someone else taking her to cuddle, and WX eventually realizing their minion is missing and going to retrieve her.

Soon enough, Nine was growing to be a smallish tallbird, which require more food, but that wasn’t really a problem. What was the problem, was that she was starting to get violent, and wouldn’t let anyone within ten feet of WX-78, they didn’t mind of course, but oh boy did the others. Woodie, for one, wasn’t fond of birds in the first place, but being pecked half to death by a domestic one sent him into a fit, Lucy was barely able to calm him down.

It didn’t take long before even the people who were fond of her when she was small became apprehensive to her staying in the camp. And had taken to meeting in secret trying to find a way to get rid of her without triggering the robot’s homicidal tendencies, which had surprisingly gone down since Nine became a member of the group. 

WX-78 was out collecting birchnuts for trail mix, their and Nine’s favourite snack, when the others decided to hold an intervention.

“Uh, WX?” A circle had erected around them, and Nine was beginning to hiss angrily at the closeness of the people.

“CAN YOU FLESHIES NOT SEE WE ARE BUSY.” Nine squawked in agreement, getting a pat on the head from the robot. They had started considering making her a honorary automaton, because of her incredible distaste in the humans and her devotion to keeping them safe.

“It’s about Nine… She’s, getting kinda violent.”

“WONDERFUL ISN’T SHE? THE PERFECT MINION.” They cooed affectionately, not catching on to what they were all insinuating.

“Violent in a bad way, she gets hostile against us for no reason.”

“THE WARRIOR ORGANIC HAS THE SAME PROBLEM.” They had a point, it took them quite a while to befriend Wigfrid and still she would occasionally decide to jump out at you for a impromptu sparring match.

“What we’re saying here, is that Nine has to go.”

“GO WHERE. SHE IS NOT IN CAMP.” This was getting irritating, and their hand was itching towards the axe in their backpack, their pride telling them they could take the four people at once. And their logical database telling them the risks.

“She’s becoming dangerous as she grows into adulthood.” Oh great, the meatbag past her expiration date was here, any arguments they wanted to start were doomed from conception. Wx-78 huffed.


End file.
